


This is a Gift (It Comes with a Price)

by Reioka



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Fairy Tale Curses, Identity Porn, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Riddles, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26262406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reioka/pseuds/Reioka
Summary: Steve and Bucky are cursed to only spend their nights together; if Bucky is seen by Steve, he has to return to Hydra, as per his curse. One fateful day, Steve is tricked into seeing Bucky, so Bucky returns to Hydra. Steve is not going to take his husband being stolen from him lying down, so he goes on an adventure to free Bucky, where he meets a man with red and gold armor who offers to help him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 228
Collections: WinterIronShield Bang Ultimate Collection





	This is a Gift (It Comes with a Price)

This is a Gift (It Comes with a Price)

Tony grumbled as he pressed his ear closer to the lock he was trying to pick. He had no idea how Clint had done this. He should have taken him up on the offer on learning. But that was the reason why he was so stupid, he reminded himself with a scowl. He’d been so smug, so confident, so overly proud of his skills in magic. He’d shown off his talent with it, using it for things so minor it would have expended less energy walking across the room to do the same thing. Now here he was, magic pulsing uselessly under the blue stone sealed to his chest, having to learn how to do everything that children did the hard way—under duress and threats of torture.

“Really?” one of the guards asked, raising an eyebrow as he came to stand in front of the cell’s door.

“You and I both know that I was never going to be able to pick this,” Tony snapped immediately as the wire was snatched from his hands.

The guard shook his head, reluctantly amused. “Right, because we had someone magic it closed.”

“One day I’m going to get out of here,” Tony threatened as he stepped back, so he wouldn’t be hit with the flat of the guard’s sword when he opened the door. “And I’m going to make every last one of you regret holding me captive.”

“Yeah, well, if we’d known how much you were gonna talk the whole time you were our captive, we’d have just killed you,” the guard replied, shrugging, then shoved another man into the cell. “Now you can talk this asshole’s ear off instead of mine.”

“Just for that, I’m going to talk to you even more,” Tony snapped, rushing to the bars to glare at him properly as he walked away. “Just you wait! When you come back for your shift, I’m gonna make you fucking miserable!”

The man on the ground beside him groaned. “Please stop yelling.”

“I’ll yell all I—oh, I’m sorry,” Tony said, kneeling beside him in concern, because the man hadn’t turned from lying flat on his face. “It’s just been me for so long. Are you okay?”

The man was quiet for a moment, shifting, testing his body. “I think I’ve been lightly stabbed in the leg,” he finally decided.

“Oh,” Tony said, looking down at himself to see if he could spare any of his clothes for bandages. “I don’t really have much we could use for—did you just fucking say ‘lightly stabbed?!’” he barked, looking back at the man. “You either are, or you’re not!”

The man, wisely, decided to rethink his answer. “Just a cut,” he said after a moment. “A threat. To show how easy it would be to slit the artery on my thigh and watch me bleed out.”

“If you bleed out in my cell, I’m going to be very upset,” Tony informed him.

The man finally turned to look at him, unable to help a slight, bewildered smile. “I can’t imagine it would do me any good, either.”

“Yeah, but you’d be dead, so you wouldn’t have to smell you,” Tony reasoned. “And I’ll be in here for a very long time.”

“What does Hydra want _you_ for?” the man asked, surprised.

Tony tried not to take offense, but it was hard. But then all at once he remembered that his own hubris had been his downfall, and even he could admit there was nothing special about him with his magic trapped firmly in his core, stifled by the blue stone sealed to the skin of his chest. He probably didn’t look like any of the other prisoners—even this man looked broad and muscular, and he seemed to be knowledgeable about the human body.

So he sighed, and sat down, leaning his arms on his knees as he said, “To use me as a conduit for their larger spells. You must have been why I was pulled out for a tracking spell earlier.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “Sorry.”

“’s not like you had a choice,” the man replied, grunting quietly as he sat up properly. He prodded at the cut, considering, then apparently shrugged it off as not a big deal, leaning back on his hands. “Could have chosen a better day, though. I’d just proposed.”

Tony winced. “Oh.”

“I’m not blaming you for something Hydra did,” the man said, looking exhausted. “They’ve been ruining my life since I could walk.”

Tony frowned at him, wondering what was so special about him that Hydra would be that obsessed with him, especially since he’d clearly escaped long enough to woo and propose to someone. But then, it would probably be safer if he didn’t know. “Tony,” he said, offering the man his hand. If they were going to be sharing a cell and he was going to be talking the man’s ear off, he figured the man deserved to be able to say his name when he told Tony to shut up in frustration, which he would doubtlessly do.

“Bucky,” the man offered, reaching out to take his hand.

Tony jerked his hand back, appalled. “No.”

“There were at least a half a dozen other James running around my village that were the same age as me,” Bucky said, luckily appearing more amused than offended. “My middle name is Buchanan, so I was lucky enough to go by ‘Bucky’ instead of Jim, Jay, or Jem. That way I always knew when I was in trouble and could react accordingly.”

Tony reluctantly took his hand. “By turning yourself in for your punishment?”

“No,” Bucky scoffed. “By sleeping in the barn for three days until my ma forgot why she was mad at me.”

Tony couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of him at that.

He gave up half of his drinking water to dab Bucky’s cut clean, feeling oddly relieved that he had a fellow captive with him, even as he felt guilt churning in his gut for being the reason why Bucky had been caught. Luckily, Bucky was happy to lay the blame entirely on Hydra and not on him, so he figured they were off to a relatively good start of being cellmates.

.-.-.-.

“My ma had a fairy godmother,” Bucky said, combing his fingers through Tony’s hair as he gasped for air in his lap.

Hydra didn’t use him often, but when they did, it always left him feeling like he was going to die. Tony never went quietly, struggling and spitting, so the guards slapped him around until he was too dizzy to fight back. Then he was pressed into a chair and restrained with leather belts, and fingers curled around the stone in his chest and pulled until he was screaming in pain. If he was lucky, he passed out—but he usually wasn’t that lucky, shaking and screaming as the Hydra mages siphoned all the magic out of him that they could without killing him, so they could use him for their next big spell.

When they’d throw him in his cell afterward, it wasn’t actually throwing, which just proved what poor shape he’d been in. A wrong shove could break a bone, and if they left him on his back, he might choke on his own vomit. It was the one time they covered his trembling body in blankets so the shock wouldn’t kill him, and the guards took turns tipping sips of water into his mouth so he wouldn’t dehydrate and die.

Bucky had taken over that work for them, though, the first time the guards had carried him in after squeezing almost all the life out of him like an orange. It was nicer, with Bucky doing it. He dabbed the sweat from Tony’s brow, and was able to get some of the porridge into him between sips of water, and he held him tight to give him some of his own body heat when he was shivering.

And he talked to fill the silence, because he’d learned that Tony hated it. It was why he talked so much, even when the guards were threatening him for it.

“F-f-fairy godm-mother?” Tony repeated, teeth chattering.

“Yeah, I guess the fairy’s sister died protecting my great-great-grandma and a bunch of other children during the war, and my godmother swore that she’d continue to protect them by giving each child and their progeny a gift. Mine was tenacity,” Bucky admitted grimly.

Tony blinked up at him slowly. “T-tenacity? Not a b-b-bad quality to ha-have.”

“I’m really fucking annoying,” Bucky deadpanned, and Tony choked on a laugh. Bucky managed a reluctant smile. “No, I’m serious. I’m basically compelled to finish what I start, regardless of what I have to do to finish it. Which is fine, in theory. I’m makin’ a loaf of bread and I’m out of flour. No one minds a guy going around and asking for some. It’s somethin’ else when no one has any, though. We were goin’ through a famine when I was young, and none of us could scrap together a handful of flour, so I just… left in the night, snuck into a noble’s house, and stole a sack of it. All so I could make a loaf of bread. My parents were mortified.”

“S-sounds like they didn’t m-m-miss it,” Tony reasoned.

“I mean, guards did _come_ around and make noise about someone stealing a sack of flour, but by that point I’d divvied it up so that everyone had some, and it never occurred to the greedy bastards that someone would do that, so they figured someone else was hoarding it and went to go track them down,” Bucky said. He sighed, frowning. “It’s why Hydra wanted me. Sure, someone who heals quickly or has super strength or is impervious to wounds might _sound_ good, but that means nothing if they won’t get the job done. And Hydra _always_ wants the job done.”

Tony frowned, brows furrowing as he stared up at him. “Job?”

“People,” Bucky said grimly. “They want me to kill people. They’re just working out the logistics of a spell to use in conjunction to my gift of tenacity so that I won’t fight it.”

“Bucky,” Tony whispered, heart breaking for him. “No.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, trying to smile but failing. His voice cracked as he added, “It’s just a matter of time before they get the spell set. I hope they don’t have to use you to do it. I don’t want you to think it’s your fault.”

Tony reached up for him with shaking arms. Luckily, Bucky knew what he needed, curling his arms around him to pull him up into a tight embrace, each of them wondering if they’d ever been more helpless in their lives.

.-.-.-.

Letting Hydra turn Bucky into a mindless assassin was not an option, Tony decided.

It was difficult, and slow going, and painful, but he was able to siphon off just a drop of magic each time Hydra used him for a spell. He would have liked to gather more, but he got the feeling Hydra was very close to finishing their spell, if the dead-eyed, silent guards were any indication. It was more like a curse than a truly benevolent spell, but it would be enough. Bucky didn’t talk about his fiancé much—it clearly hurt him to talk about the marriage he believed he’d never have—but Tony got the feeling that they’d both be willing to make concessions as long as they could be together.

And he wanted them to be together. Tony would probably never be able to escape, but Bucky could, and he could be happy. Tony wanted him to be happy.

“I can get you out of here, but there’s a price,” Tony told him once he was sure the guards had finally nodded off, so late in the night that it was closer to early morning.

Bucky looked up at him with wide eyes. “You can get me out?”

“At a price,” Tony confirmed grimly. “This isn’t—I don’t have enough magic to set you free. But I have enough to get you out.”

Bucky stood up, reaching out to grasp Tony’s shoulders, as if he all of the sudden couldn’t believe he was real. “You can get me out,” he murmured, wondering. “Tony, that’s—that’s incredible. I—”

“It won’t be perfect,” Tony cut in, before he could get too excited. “This—this is a curse. I will be cursing you.”

“How can you call it a curse?” Bucky asked, bewildered. “Being out from under Hydra’s thumb could never be a—”

“I don’t have enough magic to set you free,” Tony repeated, voice sharper this time. “We’re going to have to make it work with promises and transactions. That’s the only way this will happen. Curses aren’t inherently malevolent. They’re just a different type of spell. Why do you think I’m always almost dead when the guards bring me back? They try to keep spells as magic-based as possible, so they never have to worry about something going wrong with one of the conditional points being broken.”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, frowning. “Tony, you… you haven’t said ‘we.’ You keep saying ‘you.’”

“I can’t go with you, Bucky,” Tony said softly, because it was true—he only had enough magic to set Bucky free with conditions. He’d never be able to get out using magic, and even if he could, he’d never be able to save up enough to do it. He’d been lucky to get the small handful that he had.

Bucky’s throat worked, and his brow furrowed with frustration. Finally, he said, “I’ll make sure you get out. We’ll go together.”

Tony couldn’t help the way his heart flipped, even as he knew he couldn’t allow it. Hydra would be mad enough about losing Bucky—if Tony left, Hydra would stop at nothing to track him down. And he didn’t want that to affect Bucky or his fiancé at all. “I’ll die if I leave, Bucky,” he said, instead of trying to appeal to him, because he knew that Bucky would just use that coveted tenacity to try and convince him. He lifted his hands to put it over the blue stone in his chest, ducking his head so Bucky wouldn’t see the lie. “As soon as I step outside the confines of this castle, this will suck the life out of me.”

“Tony,” Bucky choked out, and when Tony lifted his head to look at him, he thought he’d never seen a more haggard expression on someone. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave you here alone. You’re supposed to come with me, and meet Steve, and show us all your best magic tricks. You can’t just… _die_. On your first step into freedom? That’s not _fair_.”

“You see why I know about curses,” Tony tried to joke, then ducked his head again when Bucky sucked in a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t ideal. But I… I think one of us should get to be free. And I think it should be you. Because even the idea of Hydra having someone with the gift of tenacity under their thumb terrifies me.” He looked back up at Bucky, managing a tremulous smile. “Please do this for me, Bucky. Go to your fiancé. Marry him. And never let yourself be brought back here.”

“Tony,” Bucky said again, cradling Tony’s head in his hands and drawing him into the gentlest embrace he’d ever experienced.

“One of us should get to live the life we deserve,” Tony murmured. “I don’t want to walk outside and die, so it has to be you. I’m sorry,” he added when Bucky sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m sorry it has to be this way. But it’s all we have. So please… please let me do this for you. And in return? You can just… think of me, sometimes, when you smile.”

Bucky leaned back with a wet gasp. “There won’t be a day that goes by where I won’t think of you, Tony.”

“You should at least not think of me on your wedding night,” Tony said, and managed to smile at the bark of laughter it managed to startle out of Bucky.

They had to put more conditions on the curse than Tony would have liked, but from what Bucky had told him about Steve, Tony was certain that they wouldn’t break any of them, especially with Bucky’s gift for tenacity.

“I hate that I’m leaving you alone here,” Bucky said once Tony had cast the spell.

Tony didn’t know what to say without it hurting him more, so he simply reached out to give him one last hug. “Congratulations on your impending nuptials,” he whispered. “Have a bite of cake for me. I love cake.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

When Tony woke up the next morning to find himself alone in the cell, he was glad that Bucky was gone and the guards were asleep, because there was no one there to be a witness as he cried.

.-.-.-.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

Steve rocketed up out of bed. “Bucky?!”

“Holy fucking shit—” Bucky choked out, throwing himself behind the door. “Don’t look at me!”

“Don’t look at you?” Steve asked, appalled. “You go missing for a year and the first thing you say to me is ‘don’t look at me?’ Listen, asshole, I—”

“If you see me, I have to go back,” Bucky blurted out, gripping the doorknob tightly in case the blond tried to yank the door open. “Steve please let me explain.”

Steve was quiet for several minutes before he very coldly answered, “Continue.”

Bucky waited to make sure he couldn’t hear him coming for the door. Satisfied that he wasn’t, he finally said, “I was kidnapped by Hydra.” He heard Steve suck in a startled breath and nodded grimly. “Yeah. They wanted to use my gift of tenacity to further their cause. I was put in a cell with a magic user. He… he rescued me, mostly.” He leaned his forehead against the door, frowning when he thought about Tony, curled up small and exhausted in the corner of the cell, now certain to be kept alone for the rest of his stay there for fear that he’d set another potential asset free. “But there were conditions.”

He heard Steve shuffle around inside the house before he spoke again, now on the other side of the door. “Conditions?” he asked quietly.

Bucky nodded, even though he knew Steve couldn’t see it. “He didn’t have the magic he needed to set me free without any restraints. We had to compromise. Put conditions on it.”

“What kind of conditions?” Steve asked.

Bucky couldn’t help the corner of his mouth quirking up. Leave it to Steve to cut to the chase. “We can only be together at night,” he admitted. “And if you see me, I’ll have to go back to Hydra. I know it isn’t… ideal. Or even that good. But we’ll get to have each other for a little while, which I think is much better than no time at all.”

Steve considered this, quiet, before softly answering, “I agree. Some time is better than none.”

“Steve,” Bucky added, pained. “If you see me, I… I can never come back.”

“What?” Steve gasped. “Even if you escape again?!”

“Tony only had a handful of magic,” he explained. “I had to make concessions to be able to leave at all, and he said the only reason it would work even with all of the conditions was because of my tenacity and my desire to get back to you. I figured we’d be able to make it work. You’ve always had as much tenacity as me, and yours isn’t even a fairy-gift.”

“…Tony?” Steve repeated quietly. Then his voice took on an accusing tone. “And you just left him there in your place?”

Bucky couldn’t help the mirthless snort that escaped him. “I wanted to bring him with me. I was ready to beg him to wait so we could escape together. But…. he told me he’d die if he stepped outside of Hydra’s castle. And I—I wasn’t going to tell the man helping me that it was braver to die than live the life Hydra had for him. Especially after I saw he was basically being tortured.”

Steve was quiet again. Bucky closed his eyes and leaned against the door, taking a shuddering breath. Turning his back on Tony to leave had been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, and as happy as he was to be home, to be able to even hear Steve’s voice, he ached when he remembered that Tony’s requests weren’t for him to try and rescue him, but to live a happy life, think about him when he smiled sometimes, and have a single bite of cake in his honor. Tony deserved to escape, too.

He lifted his head as he heard Steve begin shuffling around inside. “Steve?”

“Just a second,” Steve called out. A few minutes later, he said, “Okay, you can come in now.”

“Come in?” Bucky repeated quietly, even as he carefully pushed the door open and peeked inside. Steve was sitting at the table. He’d taken the dishtowel from by the stove and tied it around his head as a makeshift blindfold. Bucky couldn’t help a whimper as he lunged into the house, falling to his knees at Steve’s feet and wrapping his arms around his waist. “ _Steve_.”

“I’ve got you,” Steve said, voice soft as if trying to gentle a wild animal. “You’re here now. I won’t let Hydra take you away again.”

Bucky couldn’t help a wet gasp. “You still wanna marry me? Even though you can’t see me? Even though we’ll only be able to be together at night?”

“Marrying you is all I’ve ever wanted to do,” Steve told him firmly. “Of course I still want to marry you.” He reached out, trailing his fingers over Bucky’s arms and shoulders until he could cup his cheeks, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones gently. “Just because I can’t see you, it doesn’t mean that I don’t still love you. I’ve wanted you for so long, I don’t care how I have you, as long as I can.”

“What did I do to deserve you,” Bucky whispered, sniffling.

Steve smiled a little. “Let’s be honest, Bucky. We’re both so persistent, who else would have us?”

Bucky let out a wet laugh, even though it hurt, because it made him think about a blue stone and shaking hands setting him free.

.-.-.-.

“Tell me about him?” Steve asked quietly.

“Who,” Bucky mumbled, even though he was pretty sure he knew. He sighed. “Can we not?”

“I just want to know what he was like,” Steve insisted. He paused, then laid his head back down on his arm, lifting his free hand to make sure his blindfold was still on properly. “I just thought… it’s been six months. And I’m not jealous, not really. I mean, I’m the one with the marriage license, after all. I just… You were gone for a year. Sometimes I hear you crying when you think I’m asleep. I can’t help but think he must have been a very special person, to set you free even though it meant he’d be alone. He must be special, because it obviously hurt you to leave him.”

He heard Bucky move, and he could tell that the brunet was squinting down at him skeptically. He tried his best to look innocent. It wasn’t a lie, not really—he _did_ want to know about the man who had saved his husband. He considered offering not to ask again, because maybe the pain of leaving Tony behind was too sharp, especially knowing that he’d never be able to escape. But then he felt fingers gently brushing his hair back, out of his face.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” Bucky admitted softly. “I just… I feel guilty. Because I’m out here, and he’s stuck back there. And it’s not fair to you, making you hear it.”

“You have me bake a cake whenever we have the ingredients so that you can take a bite in his honor. I think I can handle you telling me about him,” Steve deadpanned.

Bucky was quiet for a moment, stunned, before he let out a bark of reluctant laughter. “Yeah,” he agreed. “You’re right. What exactly do you want to know?”

“Um,” Steve began, thinking frantically. He didn’t think he’d ever actually get this far. Bucky never wanted to talk about Tony. It obviously hurt him to think about him, and he usually felt guilty because he got to come live a happy life and Tony was still trapped by Hydra. He wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he wanted to know, so finally, he just asked, “What was he like?”

“Annoying,” Bucky said, curling an arm around his waist.

Steve blinked behind the blindfold, stunned, then laughed. “Buck! Come on!”

“I’m not kidding,” Bucky said, voice obviously fond. “When I say he talked all the time, I mean he even _talked in his sleep_. He’d ask me questions and he didn’t even let me answer them before he started talking again. He didn’t even care if I was listening or not. He just had to keep his mouth moving.” He paused, then sighed softly.

Steve paused, then hesitantly asked, “Buck?”

“He said some things, while he talked,” Bucky murmured. “Like how he deserved to be there, or that it was his fault. Whenever I asked him about it, he just frowned at me, as if he couldn’t believe I was listening to him. I think he was used to no one listening.” He paused again, then continued, “I don’t know how long he was there. I… I just realized, Steve. He never really told me anything about himself. Nothing substantial, anyway. I told him all about me, and you, and my family growing up, and… I don’t even know his last name.”

Steve frowned, pressing up against Bucky’s chest. “You don’t really know anything about him?”

“Just bits and pieces,” Bucky muttered. “Like when Hydra threw him back into his cell and his teeth would chatter like he was cold down to his bones, and he’d still ask me if I was hurt first. He always hated when I’d use my blanket to try and warm him up. When we got our scraps of food, he’d always try to sneak his onto my plate. All I know about him is his selflessness. Kind of wish I knew more.”

Steve pressed his head up under Bucky’s chin. “Sounds like you know the things about him that matter,” he said thoughtfully. “The good parts of him. The parts that he wanted you to remember.” Bucky’s thumb began rubbing circles at the base of his skull, and his eyes drifted shut under the blindfold. “The parts that want you to be happy, and the only repayment for it is a bite of cake in his memory.”

“I guess,” Bucky said, not sounding entirely at ease with it. “Do you think it means that he always intended to help me escape?”

“I don’t know, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised,” Steve replied. “Considering all he had to do to help you escape, and how upset he was about all the conditions on the spell. Luckily, we have a marriage license, so you’re stuck with me.”

Bucky chuckled quietly. “Stuck with—Steve, magic doesn’t care about laws.”

“It’s legally binding. You can’t take it back,” Steve answered immediately.

“Steve,” Bucky laughed. “The spell doesn’t care.”

“Then I don’t care about the spell,” Steve declared, and then leaned in and blew a raspberry on Bucky’s chest before he could argue, making him squeal instead.

.-.-.-.

They should have known better than to think they’d get a happy ending.

“Steve,” Bucky choked out, shocked.

“Buck,” Steve whispered, heart dropping to his toes. Bucky still looked good, all these years later. But he wasn’t supposed to ever know that. He hated that his last view of his husband was seeing him so scared, reaching out for him even as his form began to shift and twist, blurring at the edges.

Bucky had never looked so anguished in his life. “I can’t come back.”

“So I’ll come find you,” Steve answered, reaching out to meet his hand. “You’re mine. I’m not giving you up.”

“Steve,” Bucky said desperately, just before he disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

Steve could feel the residual heat from his hand on his palm. He gripped his hand into a fist and took a few shuddering breaths so he didn’t just fall to the ground sobbing. Why had he ever trusted Rumlow when he’d said he needed him to check on something? They hadn’t been _friends_. They’d barely spoken a word to each other, before. So why had he trusted him?

Now he’d seen Bucky, and Bucky was gone, and he’d never be able to come back. Not of his own volition.

Steve sucked in another breath, then let it back out slowly. Bucky had always laughed when he’d mentioned tracking him down, but he’d never said it was impossible. He could find Bucky and rescue him. And maybe burn Hydra to the ground while he was at it. Maybe he’d even be able to find Tony and rescue him, too. And then they could come home and beat the shit out of Rumlow.

He hoped that the experience of the curse being enacted hadn’t been as harrowing for Bucky as it had for him, Steve thought as he turned to run back to their house. Watching his body twist and warp as he struggled to stay in place had been horrifying. He hoped it hadn’t hurt him. And he hoped that, wherever he’d showed up, he started swinging and took out as many Hydra soldiers as he could.

.-.-.-.

“Okay,” Steve said to the compass in his hands. “Fury said you’d help me find my heart’s desire and you’ve not moved once. Are you telling me that Hydra is just a straight fucking line from my house?”

The compass said nothing. He had no idea why he’d thought it would, except that Fury’s teapot had been very chatty as it had poured him a cup of tea, despite Fury telling it in no uncertain terms that Steve was not staying for tea.

Steve sighed and let his arms drop to his sides so he could give the sky a very dirty look. He wanted to aim it at the compass, but he wasn’t willing to accidentally insult it, because that was a thing with witches—they demanded respect from all angles, including their instruments. He could not possibly deal with a pissed-off witch on top of searching for his cursed husband. The least Fury could have done was make the compass compatible with his motorbike so he could get to wherever he was going faster. It was a magic compass. It wasn’t even _supposed_ to be magnetized to True North.

He felt his arm jerk and instinctively gripped the compass tighter, turning with a yell.

The goblin that had been trying to snatch the compass from his hand bared its teeth at him and lunged for his hand again.

“Oh holy shit,” Steve exclaimed angrily, dodging, because goblins had been known to bite clean through bone to be able to steal something they deemed valuable. He kicked the goblin away, hoping to deter it when it realized he would fight back so he could grab for his dagger in its hesitation, but it just got back to its feet and bared its teeth at him again. “Could this day be _any_ worse,” he snarled to himself, dodging the goblin again. “If you kill me before I find Bucky, I’m going to be very upset!”

The goblin let out a truly bone-chilling howl before it lunged for him one last time. Steve braced himself, grabbing uselessly at the dagger he kept hidden in a sheath at the small of his back, because he’d never be able to get it free and out to defend him in time.

A leg covered in red armor swung out and bashed into the goblin so hard that it went flying across the road and into the ditch on the other side.

Steve stared after it, mouth hanging open, then turned quickly to see whether the leg belonged to friend or foe. Just because he’d been rescued from a goblin did not mean his savior wouldn’t also rob him.

“You okay?” the man asked, looking honestly concerned.

“Yeah,” Steve answered, looking the man up and down. His armor looked impressive enough—a shiny, threatening red—but he also looked wan and drawn, like he could lie down and sleep for ten years and it still wouldn’t be enough. It seemed so at odds that this man would have what looked like expensive armor, but not look like he was strong enough to wear it. “Are you?” he asked skeptically.

The man looked surprised that he’d even ask. “Me? Um. Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good,” Steve said. “And you’re not here to rob me or murder me?”

“I would have just let the goblin eat you,” the man answered immediately. “I should have. And I would have, if I’d known you’d stand here and ask me foolish questions.”

Steve considered this, then shrugged. He got the feeling that that wasn’t actually true. This guy seemed like the type to bluster. “Steve Rogers,” he offered, holding his hand out.

The man looked at it for a very long time, as if he didn’t know what to do with it. Steve wondered if maybe he didn’t, if he was used to people bowing to him or something. Finally, though, he reached out and took his hand to shake it, replying, “Edward. Edward… ah… Rhodes.”

“Edward Rhodes,” Steve repeated. “That’s a nice name.”

“It’s one my parents gave me,” Edward allowed.

Steve took a closer look at the man’s red armor. Now that he looked closer, he could see runes at the joints. “Oh, are you a witch?” he asked. It would make sense—he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘sir’ or ‘lord’ or anything, and the only other people he could imagine wearing spelled armor were witches.

“No,” Edward said sharply, then seemed to swallow his anger down as misplaced. “No. I hate magic.”

“Oh,” Steve said sadly. “So you probably don’t know how to work this compass…”

Edward frowned at him, obviously confused. “It’s a compass. It points North.”

Steve snorted. “Fury, the town witch, gave it to me. It’s supposed to point toward my heart’s desire.” He held the compass up so he could look at its face, frowning at it in consternation. It was still pointing down the road. “Mostly I think it’s just stuck in one direction.”

Edward leaned in to look down at the compass as well. He leaned back to squint up at the sun, holding his hand up as if to take a measurement with it, then looked back at the compass. “No,” he said slowly. “It’s definitely pointing in the direction of your heart’s desire.”

“And my heart’s desire is conveniently at the end of the main road?” Steve asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

Edward looked offended by his skepticism. “Why do you think that your heart’s desire _isn’t_ at the end of a road?”

Steve’s mouth dropped open, and he wanted to voice his outrage, but he was also somehow struck silent in shock. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? Hydra’s stronghold couldn’t _possibly_ be at the end of a road. That would be too simple, especially for a group that was so goddamn sneaky. “Do you think Hydra’s base would be at the end of a road?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Luckily, Edward didn’t look put-out by his question. “Yeah? Roads end when they reach someplace. Hydra’s stronghold is a place where one would end.”

Steve turned his attention back to the compass, frowning. “It can’t be that simple…”

“I never said it was simple,” Edward said with carefully put-upon patience. “All I said was that Hydra’s stronghold was at the end of a road.”

Steve looked up at him skeptically. “If you say so.” He looked back down at the compass and sighed, then rubbed a hand down his face tiredly. “I don’t suppose you were also going toward Hydra’s stronghold?”

“I mean. I was sort just walking and hoping to meet someone,” Edward said. “You’re someone, I guess. And you’re small. You’ll probably need help.”

Steve opened his mouth to tell him that he’d best get ready to have his ass kicked, but then sort of deflated as he took in the man’s armor again. It looked strong, even if the person wearing it didn’t. Edward must have been stronger than he looked. And he _could_ probably use the help. “Alright,” he said reluctantly. “If it won’t put you out.”

“I could stand the good karma,” Edward allowed, and then extended his hand. “Well, lead onward. Your heart will be your guide.”

“In a straight fucking line down the main road,” Steve grumbled, but couldn’t hold onto his frustration very well when Edward let out a startled bark of laughter. It was a nice laugh.

.-.-.-.

Edward was good company, Steve had to admit to himself reluctantly. Part of him had wanted to stomp along and sulk, but Edward just… wouldn’t allow it. He kept talking and talking, and normally Steve didn’t like that, being talked at, but ever since Bucky had come back, he’d gotten used to listening. It’s not like he could do much else while blindfolded, after all—could only listen, and touch, and bask in just having Bucky there.

And Edward was so _good_ at talking. He shifted topics as easy as breathing, and if Steve happened to react to something poorly, he never brought the topic up again. He circled the conversation around and around until Steve realized that he was expanding on topics that he’d deemed ‘safe’ to talk about, like small towns, and motorbikes, and sweets; things that Steve knew about and could carry on a conversation with him, but that didn’t make him flinch like magic and marriage had.

“We can talk about my husband,” Steve said after some thought. “I mean, we _are_ going to be facing off with Hydra for his freedom. You should know about him if you’re going to help me.”

Edward shut his mouth with a click and looked faintly green. “I didn’t want to intrude,” he replied after a moment. “You looked sort of… angry when I mentioned him.”

“That’s because _this fuckin’ asshole_ ,” Steve began, immediately incensed, only to pause when he noticed Edward flinching. He hesitated, coming to a stop as he took a moment to actually look Edward over.

Edward looked even paler than he had before, skin sallow and clammy. His lips were chapped—the corner of his mouth was even bleeding a little—and each inhale seemed to pain him. It also looked like each step took more effort than the last, but he’d still been trudging on diligently beside him.

Why wouldn’t he say he needed a break, Steve wondered, even as he continued, “You know what, this is gonna take a minute and I need a snack. Let’s rest a bit.”

“Okay,” Edward said, relieved but obviously trying not to show it, and followed him over to the side of the road to sit on one of the rocks lining it.

Steve took a long drink from his hydration pack, then offered the hose to Edward. “Buckle up, because I’m about to get pissed off just telling this story.”

“You don’t have to,” Edward said, but his curious expression could not be entirely quelled.

He’d get along really well with Natasha, Steve thought, because she tried to pretend that she didn’t like gossip either. “Here it comes.”

Edward sat up straighter. “Okay.”

“So my husband, he was gifted tenacity by his fairy godmother, right?” Steve said. When the other man nodded, silently urging him on, he continued, “Well, Hydra likes people who are determined, apparently, and they’d been trying to abduct Bucky for like… years. Luckily, our town has a powerful coven nearby that we have a treaty with, and Hydra didn’t want to tangle with them. But you know, Hydra are scumbags and so they came up with a spell to break the coven’s barriers down before they could get a chance to strengthen them. Still have no idea where they got the power for it because the coven is _strong_.”

“Oh,” Edward murmured, looking a little faint.

Steve didn’t blame him. Sure, one or two witches being overpowered wasn’t anything special, but an entire coven? It had been horrifying, dealing with the aftermath, and not just because Hydra had kidnapped Bucky and razed some houses to the ground, but because the coven had appeared within minutes after Hydra had disappeared again, immediately fixing the broken boundary lines and filled with rage about it.

“Anyhow,” Steve said with a shrug. He held his hand up and shook his head when Edward offered the hose back to him, and he was very pleased when the brunet quietly went back to sipping from it. “I thought I’d never see Bucky again. Hydra is so fuckin’ secretive, right? No one knew where to even start. I’d gone on a few excursions with friends when we got a lead, but…”

“Hydra plugged holes almost as soon as they opened,” Edward finished for him, voice and expression full of sympathy.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed quietly. All those months Bucky had been gone had been torture, and he couldn’t tell what had been worse—when he’d been stuck at home, waiting anxiously for Hydra to misstep so he could go after them, or trying to go after them and hitting another dead end. He shook his head, because it was no use dwelling on that anymore; instead, he opened a pouch on his hydration pack to pull out a packet of the pepper-ups that Natasha had made him. “Well. So. Eventually Bucky made it back to me.”

Edward looked surprised when he offered the packet of pepper-ups to him, but he gamely took a single blush-pink candy out, belatedly adding, “Sounds romantic.”

“I think so,” Steve agreed, taking the packet back and rolling it around until a deep red one made its way to the top so he could pluck it out. “He said he’d had to be cursed to do it, and I guess he was, technically, since it came to pass, and he had to leave. But I never really thought it was a curse.”

“You didn’t?” Edward asked uncertainly.

Steve nodded even as he motioned at the candy he was still holding. “Eat your candy. It’ll give you some strength.”

“Okay,” he replied obediently, nibbling on the candy coating.

Steve waited until he watched Edward make a surprised, pleased noise and pop the rest of the candy into his mouth, then continued, “Bucky made sure to tell me that he was only home with me because he was cursed. ‘There are conditions,’ he said. But listen,” he said, offering Edward the packet again and watching him pull out another pink one. “I would have taken _any_ condition as long as it meant that I could have just another moment with Bucky. So we could only be together at night? That was still more than I’d had when he was gone. And maybe I couldn’t see him, but I got to _feel_ him. I got to listen to his voice, touch his skin, know that he was there with me. He was mine. And that was enough for me.”

Edward stared at him, nibbling on his second piece of candy almost without thought as he listened with rapt attention. “But now he’s gone,” he said after a moment. “What happened?”

“ _This fuckin’ asshole_ ,” Steve snarled, making him jump. “Fucking _Brock Rumlow_. I guess he works for Hydra, because he tricked me, said there was something wrong with Bucky’s horse. I knew that Bucky wasn’t just in limbo or something during the day, I knew that he helped me take care of the farm, but my dumb ass went and looked anyway. And there Bucky was.” He gripped his hands into fists to hide that they were shaking a little. “He looked so scared,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “So heartbroken. I saw him, and now he’s back with Hydra. And I know it’s not my fault—it’s Hydra’s, or Rumlow’s, or—or—or whoever it is that helped Hydra. But whenever I remember how scared he was when he realized he was going back to Hydra, I can’t help but feel it’s mine.”

Edward stuck his fingers in his mouth to suckle the last of the sugar from them, considering, before he pulled them back out with a soft ‘pop’ and said, “I mean. It _is_ your fault.”

Steve gaped at him, affronted. “What?”

“It’s your fault,” Edward repeated, and then before Steve could work himself up into a rant that probably started and ended with him punching Edward in the face, he continued, “Just like it was the fault of the guy who cursed him. The fault of Hydra for wanting him to be their pawn. The fault of his fairy godmother for giving him his gift of tenacity. Hell, even the fault of Bucky not keeping his gift a better secret. Unfortunately, when magic like this is involved, there is no one person at fault when something goes wrong. It’s like a house made out of playing cards—if just one card fails, the whole house falls.”

Steve stared at him, shocked silent. Edward shrugged uncomfortably under his gaze and reached out for one last pepper-up. “Fairy magic… has a tendency to ripple,” he finally said after a moment. “Like a fairy dropping a pebble into a pond as they walk by, the act has consequences long after they’ve left. A gift from a fairy is a wonderful, terrible thing. People are blessed, and it makes other people covet them, sometimes for all the wrong reasons. Your husband is just simply, unfortunately one of those people coveted for the wrong reasons.” Then Edward offered him the smallest of smiles. “It’s nice, seeing you covet him for simply being him, and not for his gift.”

“Do you know a lot about fairy magic, Edward?” Steve asked quietly.

Edward shrugged one shoulder and turned his head away, carefully not making eye contact anymore. “I knew one, once,” he said after a moment.

Steve wondered what the story was behind that. But Edward clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and he wasn’t going to push him when he’d made Steve better about his part in Bucky’s curse. So many people had given him platitudes that hadn’t made him feel better at all, or had given sort of backhanded comments telling him it really was all his fault, or they had simply let him vent and patted his hand. Edward had made it sound so simple, that it wasn’t really anyone’s fault in a way that could have been helped.

So he let Edward take a few more sips from his hydration pack as he put the pepper-up candy away.

.-.-.-.

Three people stopped and offered them rides, and Steve reluctantly had to turn them all down. Two of them were trucks, which would have fucked with the magical compass he’d been given, so he gave them his sincerest thanks-but-no-thanks. The third had been a man with horses and wagon, but he’d given Edward’s armor a very dubious look, and Edward had given the wagon’s wheels a very dubious look, and Steve had come to the conclusion that neither of them expected the wagon to hold the weight, so he’d had to turn him down too.

“You could have gone with him,” Edward said after a moment. “I would have caught up.”

Steve scoffed at him, honestly a little offended that he considered that even considered that an option. “I’m not going to leave you behind, Edward. You said you’d help me. It would be really shitty of me to just leave you to catch up. Besides, the walking will do me good.”

Edward gave him a slow look up and down. “If you say so,” he said, looking just as dubious as he had about the wagon.

Steve didn’t take it personally. He wasn’t as sickly as he had been as a child, and he’d grown some, but he still fatigued quickly. Still, he didn’t think he looked as wan as Edward—the other man looked as if each step was a struggle, even with the pepper-up candies and several swallows of water.

“They wouldn’t have taken us to Hydra anyway,” Edward said abruptly. “I know you think the compass and it’s ‘straight line’ are ridiculous, but Hydra would be fools if they didn’t hide their stronghold. The compass is showing you a straight line because it can cut through their wards. If we’d gotten in the wagon and you weren’t looking at that compass, what would look like a straight line to us would actually be many twists and turns through Hydra’s wards. No one is going to let you lead them off the road in a wagon, Steve.”

Steve turned to stare up at him, stunned. “Wait. So you’re saying, all those times we’ve traveled down this road—”

“You were winding through the wards, completely unaware,” Edward confirmed.

Steve opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Finally, though, he croaked, “Bucky walked through them, then, too.”

“Wards aren’t for finding. They’re for hiding. Bucky could have grabbed a ward with his bare hand and Hydra wouldn’t have known that he was who they were looking for. They’d just know him as an intruder,” Edward said, shrugging. “Magic might seem nebulous, but human magic is heavily rooted in rules. That’s why some magic has so many conditions.”

“Oh,” Steve said after finally forcing himself to stop gaping at him.

“We should rest soon,” Edward added, squinting up at the sky. “Your compass may be helping us travel the wards, but it’s hard on the body.”

Steve looked around, frowning, then looked back at Edward. “Where?”

Edward looked around as well, then rubbed the back of his head with an exhausted sigh. “If we keep going a little further, we’ll make it to the forest Hydra’s stronghold is hidden in. We should be able to get that far before we have to rest again.”

Steve heard the unspoken ‘before _I_ have to rest again’ in the defeat in his voice. He thought about telling Edward that it clearly wasn’t his fault he was spread thin, then decided that drawing attention to it would be cruel. “Okay,” he said instead, and began walking again, checking the compass to make sure he’d gone the right direction. “Just let me know if you need some more of my water,” he added when he noticed Edward taking a deep breath before he began trudging after him.

“Sure,” Edward replied, in a way that made it clear he would not.

Steve pursed his lips but didn’t push it. He looked so tired already. He was certain that he could finagle Edward into taking a few sips of water while they traveled, so long as he didn’t rile him up, so it was better to back off.

They settled just on the edge of the forest, as Edward had suggested. They couldn’t make a fire, because the fire itself would set off Hydra’s protective wards, and the smoke would bring Hydra right to them. On the bright side, they stopped near a stream, which Steve took shameless advantage of, using a wet cloth to wipe off the travel dust and sweat, then filling his half-empty hydration pack.

“Are you going to sleep with your armor on?” Steve asked in surprise after staring at Edward for a long moment and realizing he was making no move to divest them.

“I, ah,” Edward began, surprised, then belatedly put on a leer. “Do you want me to?”

“You look like you’re dying,” Steve deadpanned. The leer immediately fell from Edward’s face, and he looked absolutely mortified for a moment, so much so that Steve sort of felt badly about saying anything. “Edward—” he began, apologetic.

But Edward was already turning away from him, situating himself to lean up against a tree as he said, voice clipped, “I’m keeping it on.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed, sensing an argument would end poorly. He tried to offer Edward some more pepper-ups and water, but the other man kept waving him away. He eventually got Edward to accept some of the dense, nutritious sweet bread that Sam had sent with him and then didn’t push anymore for the rest of the night.

.-.-.-.

Steve woke up to drool dripping on him. “That’s very rude,” he said, and would blame it on being half-awake for the rest of his life.

“You are trespassing,” the troll above him growled, motioning at him with—holy shit, with Edward’s limp body, armor clanging together uselessly.

“Did you kill him!?” Steve barked, sitting up quickly.

The troll blinked at him slowly, then looked at Edward in its hand. “No, he was just like this. I think he’s sick.”

Steve got up and rushed over to try and take him from the troll’s hand. “Put him down!”

The troll, blessedly, did not just drop Edward, because Steve realized he actually would have been crushed by the armor, which was… horrifically heavy. No wonder Edward had looked so tired yesterday. Steve fussed with getting Edward sat upright, leaning him against another tree and pressing the back of his hand to the other man’s forehead. He was burning up. No wonder he hadn’t woken up.

“You’re still trespassing,” the troll said.

“Do I look like I give a shit?!” Steve barked at it, before frantically grabbing at his hydration pack and bringing the hose up to Edward’s mouth.

The troll scoffed at him and shoved him away. “Don’t do that! He’ll choke.” It pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on, examining Edward carefully. “It looks like a side-effect of long-term magic withdrawal. He just needs rest, I think.”

Steve frowned up at him, confused. “I mean, I saw the sigils on his armor, but… it didn’t look like he was actively using magic.”

“Hmm,” the troll acknowledged, examining the runes at the joints in concern. “Those wouldn’t cause this,” it said decisively, then set Edward against the tree gently. It took its glasses off again and sighed down at Steve. “You’re still trespassing, though, so I have no choice but to take you prisoner and bring you back to Hydra to deal with.”

“What? No! Come on, can’t I answer a riddle or something?” Steve complained, even as he carefully wetted the rag that he had the night before, dabbing at Edward’s face. “That’s a thing trolls do, right?”

“I have no idea,” the troll deadpanned. “I’m cursed to be one. I wasn’t born this way.” It paused, then added, “Although that would make the fact that I suddenly know a shit-ton of riddles make sense.”

Steve looked up at him hopefully. “So give me a riddle, and I’ll answer it, and you won’t have to take us prisoner.”

“Provided you get it correct,” the troll warned. It frowned in concern, staring at Edward, then decided, “And I’ll give that guy a little bit of magic so he doesn’t look like he’s about to die.”

Steve shot his hand out to him. “Deal!”

The troll considered his outstretched hand, then delicately took it between two of its fingers. “Alright. Now, listen carefully: As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives. Each wife had seven sacks, each sack had seven cats, and each cat had seven kits. Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, how many were going to St. Ives?”

“Holy shit,” Steve said, and then when the troll raised its eyebrows at him, he hastily added, “That wasn’t my answer.”

“I didn’t think it was,” the troll said.

“Okay, okay, so,” Steve muttered to himself, crossing his arms in thought. “So it was a man. That’s one. He had seven wives. And seven cats? And the cats all had seven kittens. So that’s… seven forty-nine kittens, with seven cats that’s fifty-six, and then the seven wives—which, holy shit, who has the time—uh, that’s sixty-three, and then there’s the husband and that’s sixty-four… Wait. I missed something. There was another thing. Shit uuuh… As I was going to St. Ives I met a man with seven wives and each wife had—fuck, seven sacks, shit, uh—wait a minute.” He stood up abruptly and pointed in the troll’s face, offended. “This is a trick question! _I’m_ going to St. Ives.”

“Okay,” the troll began. “So you answered—”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Steve thundered. “I mean we’re to assume that the man and his entire fucking circus are coming _from_ St. Ives but the group is so big that I, a single person not dealing with sacks full of cats and kittens, am just simply passing them, even as they are _also_ on their way to St. Ives. You’ve told me a trick question!”

“The answer was one person,” the troll said. “It wasn’t a trick question.”

Steve scowled at him and opened his mouth to begin chewing him out again.

“You answered it correctly,” the troll cut in before he could get started. “You’re free to go on. And I don’t actually have a lot of magic of my own, but here’s this,” it added, offering him something that fit in the palm of his hand and was covered in spines. “Peel it and get him to eat it, and he should be fine.”

“Should be?” Steve asked dubiously.

The troll scowled at him. “I’m not a doctor,” it told him firmly, then turned and left.

Steve watched it go, stunned, but was jolted back into awareness when Edward let out a soft moan. He pulled out his dagger and carefully peeled the fruit. It was difficult, because the fruit was slippery, but he eventually got it free of the peel and gently tipped Edward’s head back. “Here. Eat this,” he ordered softly.

“Mmrf,” Edward replied.

Steve pressed the fruit to his lips. Luckily, Edward peeled his eyes open, looking confused, but he opened his mouth to take the fruit between his teeth and bite down. Steve watched, concerned, but the change was almost immediate—the fever faded, and Edward’s pale skin filled with color, and then he took a deep, heaving breath and sagged a little before sitting up.

“…That had a heinously big pit in it,” Edward said after a moment.

“Huh?” Steve asked, and then barked, “And you _swallowed_ it?! Why didn’t you spit it out?!”

“Too tired to chew,” Edward replied with a shrug, and then looked around in surprise. “Did something happen?”

“Come on, let’s get out of here before another troll comes,” Steve huffed, getting to his feet and grabbing his pack.

Edward obediently got to his feet as well, then looked at Steve in surprise. “There was a troll here?”

“Just hurry up!” Steve exclaimed, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

.-.-.-.

“Oh, that was probably Bruce,” Edward said after Steve finally explained what had happened to him.

Steve whipped his head up from staring at the compass. “The troll’s name was Bruce?”

Edward frowned at him, clearly befuddled as to why it mattered. “Yes? He was an alchemist, and then he got on the wrong side of some military warlock, and now he’s cursed for like… a hundred years or until he gets his true love’s kiss. Maybe he’d get that kiss if he didn’t keep fucking running away from her,” he added, mostly to himself.

Steve could only stare. “You. You know him.”

Edward tilted his head, brows furrowing together. He looked vaguely hurt on top of confused. “I can have friends, Steve.”

“Ah,” Steve began, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “I know that, I just—I guess I’m surprised, and—” He yelped as the ground suddenly gave beneath his foot, and the last thing he saw before he fell was Edward’s horrified face. “Fuck!”

“Steve!” Edward cried, and circled the edge of the pit he’d fallen through. “Steve, are you okay?”

Steve stared up at him, then slowly lifted his hands to pat himself down. Nothing really hurt. It was more like he’d… slid down? Rather than just pitched over the edge to the bottom. “I think—I think I’m okay. I’m gonna stand up. Just a sec.” He heard Edward continuing to shuffle nervously around the top of the pit as he carefully stood up, leaning against the wall for support. He tested each ankle separately, then carefully put his full weight on them. “I’m okay,” he said decisively, then looked back up at Edward, calling up a firmer, “I’m okay.”

Edward looked around for something to use to pull him up, then looked down at him helplessly. “I’ll figure out a way to get you out,” he called down, but he sounded so defeated already.

Steve frowned up at him, wondering if that fruit had really helped all that much. He looked healthier, but he sounded like he would never be able to find the strength to actually heave him up. He looked around where he’d fallen. “Oh,” he said, surprised. “I think—Edward, there’s a tunnel.”

“Is it breathing?” Edward asked in concern.

“Why the fuck would you ask me that,” Steve muttered to himself, mostly because now he had to check if it was breathing. He stuck his hand in it and was relieved to find that it did not feel hot or moist. “It’s not breathing.” He leaned down to peer into the tunnel. “I don’t see any teeth.” All of the sudden a blue light shot past him into the tunnel, and he yelped, launching himself back into the wall of the pit. “Holy shit!”

“Is that a bluecap?” Edward asked. “Steve, maybe it can lead you out!”

Steve approached the edge of the tunnel, frowning skeptically. “I don’t have any money for it,” he said, even as the flame fluttered just out of sight in a tempting ‘follow me.’

“Don’t worry about it,” Edward called, just an edge of desperation to his voice. “I’ll—I can give it a piece of the armor. Parts of it are made out of gold. I’m sure it’ll accept that.”

Steve turned to look at him worriedly. He hadn’t wanted to take it off even to sleep, and now he was willing to give a piece of it up so easily? “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Edward assured him. “I’ll—I can try and meet you, at the other end?”

“Just stay where you are!” Steve ordered. “I’ll use the compass to come and find you. Just stay there.”

Edward’s expression changed to mulish for just a moment before going back to looking worried. “Be careful, Steve,” he called to him.

Steve smiled up at him, trying to be as reassuring as possible. “I will. Don’t worry.”

“Famous last words,” Edward replied with a drollness that didn’t match his expression.

Steve waved at him, then turned back to the tunnel and took a deep breath. The bluecap was still shimmering just out of sight, the only evidence that it was there the light it threw on the walls. Steve took a deep breath, then pressed one hand to the wall of the tunnel and slowly began edging after it.

The tunnel was unoccupied. Whatever had made it had left long ago, Steve decided, and wondered if it had decided it wouldn’t find what it had been digging for, or if it had been chased out of its burrow by Hydra. He wondered what had made the tunnel—it was wide enough to stumble through blindly without knocking into anything, and tall enough that he didn’t have to duck. It was not in a straight line though, because he never actually saw the bluecap again—just the shimmering that led around the next corner, always one step ahead. He was nervous about it, at first—what if it wasn’t a bluecap, and it was leading him to his doom?—but eventually he noticed that the light he’d been walking toward was no longer flickering, but was the steady half-light of sunbeams trying to filter through plants.

Steve rushed toward it, and was only worried for a moment when he didn’t see the bluecap, too desperate to get outside into the light. He clawed at the curtain of leaves aside and burst out of the tunnel, only belatedly remembering to look for the bluecap and offer it a piece of Tony’s armor if it would only wait.

Instead he was faced with a handful of red magic that had him lunging to the side to dodge, shouting, “What the fuck??!”

“You’re trespassing,” the woman that had been attacking him informed him coldly, and she took a step to be able to throw another handful of magic at him and froze in her steps, eyeing him with sudden interest. “You’re on a quest to find your true love,” she declared, hand falling to her sides. “That’s… interesting.”

“Yeah, interesting, haha,” Steve said weakly, turning to look at the burning embers of where the woman’s magic had struck the trees behind him. His dagger would mean nothing to her. His only hope would be to flee and hope the trees blocked any of her magic, but that would mean turning his back to her, and he wasn’t entirely inclined to do that. All he could do was try to appeal to her more human nature and hope she hadn’t had all of her sympathy crushed out of her by Hydra. “Interesting in a good way, I hope.”

The woman tilted her head, eyeing him up and down with a skepticism he didn’t really think he deserved, considering he was there and ready to rescue Bucky at cost to his own life if need be. “Most people give up once they realize they’ll have to fight Hydra to get their person back,” she said after a moment. Her lips slowly twisted into a grin that left him feel more unsettled than relieved. “I find that remarkable, that you love your person so much you are willing to do all this to rescue them. How would you like a wager?”

Steve let his hand drift back to finger his dagger even ask he asked, “What kind of wager?”

The woman noticed his hand’s movement, and she looked amused and not at all worried that he was arming himself. “If you answer my riddle correctly, I’ll let you continue your endeavor,” she said, crossing her arms. “After all, a good romance is so hard to find these days.”

“And if I _fail_ to answer correctly?” Steve asked her, not fooled for a moment.

Somehow, she continued to look pleased by this. “You die,” she said simply.

Steve scowled. “Let me guess. If I refuse the riddle entirely, I’ll die either way.”

“Smart man,” she replied, smug.

Steve crossed his arms as well, sighing in frustration. It seemed like if he wanted to get back to Edward and continue his search for Bucky, he really had no choice. “Alright. Tell me your riddle.”

She lifted her head, grin turning sharp. “The cost of making me, only the maker knows, and I’m valueless if bought, but sometimes traded. A poor man may give me as easily as a king. When I am broken, pain is assured. What am I?”

Steve wished for a moment that he was facing off with Bruce again, because his riddle had been much easier. Still, the answer meant life or death for him, so he closed his eyes to try and concentrate.

It was valueless if bought, but sometimes traded. The cost of making it was known only to the maker. Clearly it wasn’t something to do with money, otherwise these facts wouldn’t make sense. What could he make or give that didn’t require money, but cost him? What could he give that a poor man could just as easily as a king?

“A promise,” Steve murmured to himself, stunned, remembering an old riddle his mother had used to tease him with. He looked up at the woman, straightening his shoulders. “A promise,” he said again, stronger.

“A promise?” she asked, eyes glittering, and it was only then that Steve really understood the depth of her trickery.

“Wait,” Steve began frantically, reaching out to stop her, but she merely took a step backward, eyes glowing scarlet.

The woman’s grin didn’t waver. “You’re giving me a promise?” she asked, just to tease or torture him.

Steve gritted his teeth, but he had no choice in the matter anymore. “I—” he began, then ducked his head, trying to swallow down his pride.

“WANDA,” a familiar voice bellowed, and Steve turned to watch Edward storming up. He looked as sickly as he had before the fruit Bruce had given to him, but he was still charging toward them anyway. “Get away from him!”

“Tony,” the woman—Wanda, apparently—said, unperturbed by his outburst. She looked him up and down slowly, then frowned, brows furrowing together in concern as she repeated a soft, “Tony.”

But that… that wasn’t right. This was Edward. Edward Rhodes. Why was she calling him Tony? And why didn’t Edward correct her?

“He’s Bucky’s,” Edward snapped, walking right up to her and pointing directly into her face. “They have a chance to escape and live happily ever after, so you leave them alone. He’s not promising you anything!”

Wanda slapped his hand away, looking annoyed and vaguely ill. “That’s not for you to decide,” she retorted. She looked him up and down, unimpressed, then hissed, “I should take that armor back.”

Edward scowled at her mulishly, and there was a brief flash of bright blue magic that had Steve stupidly thinking the bluecap had attacked them for being so slow to pay them.

Then Wanda let out a startled scream, and Edward crumpled to the ground, and all Steve could think to do was rush over to him, shouting, “Edward!”

“His name’s not Edward, stop calling him Edward,” Wanda snarled at him, but he could see she looked more worried than angry as she knelt beside him, helping him turn the other man over.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, and wondered if he should stab her now, while she was obviously distracted.

She rolled her eyes irritably. “His name has power. He’s _Tony,_ ” she said, and a soft blue glow began in the center of his chest plate. She nodded grimly and patted the spot with one glowing hand, and it sucked her magic up greedily.

Steve looked back and forth between them, bewildered. “Why would he tell me his name was Edward Rhodes, then?” he finally asked, sitting back on his heels.

Wanda looked up at him with a snort of contempt. “Because you’re Bucky’s,” she said with a shrug, standing up and brushing dirt off her knees. “Because he fell for your true love while they were held captive, and then he fell for you with every story about you that Bucky told him. It is anathema to come between true love.” She looked back down at the other man, lips pursed, then added, “So he chose to deceive you. And in doing so, he chose to die on his terms. Considering that he thought Hydra was going to kill him, he probably would have preferred it.”

“Tony,” Steve breathed when he realized what she was saying, that this was Tony—Bucky’s Tony, the one who had helped to set him free so he could get back to Steve and marry him, who only wanted Bucky to eat a bite of cake for him, to think of him when he smiled sometimes.

Tony, who would have died if he… stepped outside Hydra’s stronghold…?

Wanda seemed to sense his thoughts, and she actually looked a little sympathetic as she told him, “That was the lie he told Bucky so that he would leave him behind.” She offered her hand to him, and in it was another spine-covered fruit.

Steve was loathe to take it, but it was for Tony, and his breathing was so labored, fingers twitching uselessly in what Steve now realized were an attempt to cast magic. So he reached out and took the fruit, nodding his thanks to her.

“I’ll come back for my promise,” Wanda said, and it sounded like a warning. She didn’t wait for his answer before she turned on her heel and left.

.-.-.-.

“You lied to me,” Steve said as soon as Tony—talkative, selfless Tony, who had cursed Bucky so he could escape, who had set Steve at ease with his part in Bucky’s disappearance—began to stir. “And it was killing you.”

“If I want to die on my terms instead of as a pawn for Hydra, you don’t get to judge me for it,” Tony answered immediately, voice scratchy. “I will die before I let Hydra use me again.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again, frowning. He supposed he could respect that. Bucky had told him about how Hydra had used Tony, squeezing him like an orange of all his magic until he had nothing left to give, and then dropping him back in his cell where he begged to die until he recovered. “You loved him,” he said, instead of scolding him.

Tony nodded, too exhausted to deny it. “He held me at my weakest, and still thought I was wonderful,” he said softly. “Even though I was the reason Hydra found him. Even though I was the reason he would be trapped.” He looked up at Steve, and he looked so apologetic. “I thought, if my final act could be to save him, it could make up for all the hurt I helped Hydra cause—to him, and to you.”

“Tony,” Steve whispered, frowning. “What Hydra did… it wasn’t your fault.”

Tony looked away from him, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes to try and wipe the wetness away. “It feels like it.” He looked back at Steve, a little green around the gills. “It was my power that helped Hydra track Bucky down, to break through your coven’s wards, to keep him prisoner. He was so angry when he got back that he killed five guards with a stolen sword, and in the melee, I could escape. I was going to try and appeal to your coven, to offer to be their conduit, and… and then I found you, alone, but so determined. I knew if anyone could save Bucky, it would be you. Because you saved him before, even though you weren’t even there.”

Steve reached out to take his hand, and the poor man flinched, and then looked up at him with liquid eyes when he realized he wasn’t going to be hurt. “It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated firmly, remembering all the stories that Bucky had tearfully recounted of Tony hissing and spitting as he was dragged away from his cell, and then how limp and useless he was when he was brought back. “At all. This was Hydra being their evil, asshole selves. You’re the victim, Tony, not their partner in crime.”

Tony’s breath hitched, and he had to look away again. Steve stroked his thumb over his knuckles until Tony could catch his breath.

“They were just perfecting how to make him a mindless slave when I snuck out,” he said after a moment. “We should go get him.”

“Are we close to Hydra’s stronghold?” Steve asked, instead of calling him out on the change in topic.

Tony’s smile was grim and a little broken as he corrected, “We’re near a servant entrance. We can get to the dungeons there.”

.-.-.-.

Except Bucky wasn’t in the dungeons anymore, one of the servants told them with wide, frightened eyes. The process to make him a complacent doll to do their bidding would start soon—they were simply looking for a mage to use as a conduit now that their previous one had escaped. It would only be a matter of time, because now Hydra didn’t care if the conduit survived anymore.

Steve turned to look at Tony sharply, but his face gave away nothing. He looked back at the servant. “Can we get to him from here?”

“You can get to a door that will give you the option,” the servant replied cryptically, pointing toward the end of the hall, which was dark and shadowed, because of course it was.

“I think you should leave,” Tony told the servant suddenly. “I think you should spread the word amongst yourselves and leave the stronghold.”

The servant frowned at him, confused. “What?”

“I think you should leave,” Tony repeated, and then a few blue sparks crackled over his fingers.

The servant looked up at him with eyes as large as saucers before turning on his heel and leaving, hopefully to go spread the word, but Tony didn’t look like he cared in the slightest where the servant was going.

“Tony,” Steve said quietly before they could head toward the door.

Tony turned to look at him in concern. “Steve?”

Steve took a deep breath, then asked, “What did you mean, you thought he should spread the word and leave the stronghold?”

Tony was silent for a moment, apparently hoping that if he didn’t say anything, Steve would let it go. When he realized that was not the case, he sighed and dipped his head. “They used me as a conduit for their wards. If it comes down to it, I can rip them apart. But it would be… better if there were fewer people around.”

“Because then there would be fewer casualties?” Steve pressed, frowning.

Tony finally turned toward him, scowling. “I will not be sorry for bringing this castle down on Hydra and killing them all.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again, biting his bottom lip. Knowing all the suffering Tony had endured, all the pain he’d felt for being complicit in the suffering of others, it made sense that he would feel that way. He had no right to tell him not to when he knew that he wanted to bur Hydra to the ground as well.

So instead, he kept his mouth shut, nodded, and grabbed one of the torches to light the way to the door at the end of the hall.

The door led to another short hallway, and at the end of that, it split open into a room with two doors. Each door was guarded by someone decked out in full Hydra regalia, from their heavy boots to their reptilian helmets. Both were heavily armed.

“I can take one of ‘em,” Steve muttered.

“If we answer their riddle correctly, we won’t have to fight them,” Tony replied.

Steve turned to look up at him, disgruntled. “Hey, uh, what the fuck is with Hydra and riddles? Hydras don’t even fucking tell riddles. That’s sphynxes.”

Tony gave him some (frankly insulting) side-eye. “Hydra relies on trickery because they’re not actually that powerful—most people that _are_ powerful can’t be swayed to their cause. That’s why they focus on _capturing_ people who are powerful—people with fairy gifts, or people to use as conduits to boost their power. Even someone without magic can use the magic of a riddle.” He nodded at the guards, who were slowly shifting to point their spears at them. “They have magic, but the riddle is a ward of its own. If we fail, the ward sends out a call to all of the guards here. If we succeed, they have to send out a manual alarm, which will give us just enough time to get Bucky freed and begin an escape.”

“Seems weird, that they’re giving us the chance,” Steve mumbled.

“It just means that no one’s beaten the riddle before,” Tony replied grimly. “Which means it’s difficult.”

“Oh,” Steve said as he followed Tony over to the guards.

The guards, seeing them deciding to approach, clanged the bases of their spears on the ground. Then they lifted their spears to point at them. “One door leads to hell,” one of the guards croaked, mask distorting the words in a way that made gooseflesh rise on their skin.

“The other leads to heaven,” the other guard croaked.

“You may ask one of us one question,” the first guard continued.

“And then make your choice on which door to pass through,” the other guard finished.

“Seems simple enough,” Steve began, but fell silent when the guards banged their spears on the ground before pointing them at them again.

“One of us always tells the truth,” the first guard croaked.

“And one of us always tells lies,” the other guard added. They pointed their spears at them more insistently. “Which question do you ask?”

“That’s a bit harder,” Steve said, voice shaking a little. He knew the promise riddle because his mother had teased him with it before; he’d answered Bruce’s riddle because he clearly had a soft spot for Tony and hadn’t wanted it to be difficult. He wasn’t a stupid man, but he got the feeling they were on a time limit before the guards considered no answer an answer enough.

Tony turned toward him. “Steve. Do you trust me?”

Steve blinked up at him. Suddenly, he understood personally what he’d said to Bucky, when he told him, ‘Sounds like you know the things about him that matter.’ He didn’t know Tony, not really. But he _did_ know enough about him to trust him. So, he nodded, and quietly said, “Yeah, Tony. I do.”

Tony nodded back sharply, and then he turned and walked over to the guard on the left. He eyed him very carefully, mouth set in a firm line, before he finally asked, “Would he,” he nodded at the guard on the left, “tell me that his door leads to heaven?”

The guard on the left was quiet, considering, before tipping his head in the smallest of nods.

Tony’s reaction was instantaneous, slamming his armored body into the left guard and ramming him up against the wall. “Come on, Steve!” he shouted, kicking the door on the left open.

Steve didn’t need to be told twice, sprinting across the room and through the door. It led to stairs, and he began climbing them without thought, comforted by the sound of Tony’s armor clanking behind him. The stairs opened up into a small room, with the only thing in it a chair with bindings on it right in the middle.

Bucky was bound to the chair, gagged, tears rolling down his cheeks and smudging the runes painted on them.

“Bucky!” Steve cried, wanting to run toward him, but Tony yanked him back. It caused one of the Hydra mages’ staff to miss him by a margin so narrow that he could hear the whistle of it cutting through the air.

“I’ll take care of the mages,” Tony said, lifting an arm to block another blow. The staff shattered against his armor. “You go free Bucky.”

“Right,” Steve agreed, ducking under another mage’s punches and darting over to Bucky, grabbing his dagger. He untied the gag first so he could press a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips, then dropped to his knees, sawing at the leather cuffs around his ankles.

“Steve,” Bucky choked out.

“We’re here, Buck,” Steve assured him.

“Move!” Tony barked.

Steve rolled to the other side of the chair just in time to miss being absolutely decimated by a blast of magic. He started hacking away at the cuff on that side instead.

“Steve,” Bucky choked out again, then squawked and used his newly freed feet to shove the chair backward so one of the mages could go sailing over where he’d been. “Tony!?”

“Surprise!” Steve wheezed, sawing on the leather cuffs around his wrists. “We’re rescuing you! Also I get dibs on killing Rumlow when we get home.”

“What the fuck,” Bucky sputtered, rubbing his wrists.

Steve helped pull him to his feet, punching a mage when they noticed and tried to stop him. “We should go before the guards alert everyone,” he suggested, just a touch frantically.

Tony threw the last mage down the stairs, where he pitched into the first group of guards to respond to the riddler’s call. “That sounds like a good idea,” he agreed. “Just not that way.”

“Tenacity here I come we’re going out the fuckin’ window,” Bucky replied, throwing Steve over one shoulder with a yelp. “It’ll be okay. Tony come on.”

Steve watched Tony follow them obediently, but then he hesitated at the windowsill. “Tony, come on!” he said again. “If Bucky says we’ll be okay, we’ll be okay!”

“I,” Tony began.

“Tony,” Bucky snarled, turning and grabbing his arm. “Come _on_.”

Tony hesitated only a second longer before reaching out his free hand and slapping one of the runes on the wall. The rune immediately lit up bright blue at the same time Tony’s armor just… began to melt off of him, clattering to the ground with loud, wet sounds.

“Fucking hurry up,” Bucky snapped, hooking an arm around Tony’s waist and leaping out the window. His feet hit the roof tiles, and he began sliding down them to the edge.

“He’s bossier than I remember,” Tony admitted to Steve, just before Bucky launched them off of the edge of the roof.

Steve managed a smile before he had to wince at Bucky’s shoulder jamming into his ribs when he hit the next roof down. “You get— _tuh!_ —used to it.”

“Oh holy fucking shit,” Bucky spluttered as the roof beneath him suddenly gave, peeling off of the wall and sliding to the ground. “Oh fuck! Everybody hang on!”

Luckily, they could ride the roof down to the ground, the slate folding up against each other like dominos until they hit the ground and could roll away to safety. They turned just in time to watch the entire tower they’d been on top of beginning to topple over.

“Holy shit,” Steve murmured, then realized that some of the bricks were beginning to slide free and fall toward them. He turned, barking, “Move!”

“Tony!” Bucky exclaimed when he noticed that Tony was struggling to get to his feet.

Tony only managed to get a few steps before he crumpled to the ground, chest heaving with the effort of drawing in a breath. “I—” he whimpered. “I—”

Bucky scooped him up and jerked backward, just in time to pull him out of the way of being crushed by an entire section of the tower’s wall. “Steve?!” he called out, and waited until he felt fingers digging into his arm before he ran so he didn’t lose him in the hubbub.

Once they were far enough away, they had to turn and look again. It was the type of thing that needed to be watched. As they looked on, the rest of the castle began to collapse, wood rotting away before their eyes, some of the stone bricks crumbling to dust. The only thing that remained were some of the battlements, but they looked much worse for wear than they had before the castle had collapsed.

“What the fuck,” Bucky whispered, unsure where to look.

Steve simply jerked his head down in a short nod. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Tony, did you see—” Bucky began, looking down at him, then choked on his tongue. “ _Tony_.”

“Tony!?” Steve asked, turned to look as well.

Tony was pale, so pale they could see each and every vein in his skin. His chest heaved uselessly to take in a breath, the blue stone set in it crackling weakly with energy. As they watched, the stone cracked, and one third stopped glowing, which seemed to cause him immense pain. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

Bucky eased Tony to the ground, instead reaching out to clutch one of Tony’s hands in both of his. “Tony,” he whispered, helpless.

Steve reached out to brush the hair out of Tony’s watery eyes, stroking his thumb over his cold cheekbone gently. “Tony, what happened?”

“M—my,” he began, tear rolling down his cheek. He swallowed thickly, then tried again, “M-m-m-magic was… They used it… t-to ward the s-s-stronghold.”

Steve remembered him slapping his hand against one of the sigils on the wall. “So you’re just going through another one of the—Bruce called it a magic withdrawal?”

“I d-destroyed it,” Tony whispered. “And now I can’t—can’t make m-more. I… I’m s-s-sorry I cause s-so much tr-trouble.”

“You didn’t cause any trouble, doll,” Bucky said gently. “You were just tryin’a survive Hydra. No one can blame you for that.”

Tony tipped his head to look up at him, sniffling as he whimpered, “I’m s-s-still s-sorry.”

“Shh,” Steve whispered, brushing his knuckles over Tony’s cheek. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I’m… I’m r-really happy you f-found each other again,” Tony said. “I h-h-hope the cake was g-good.”

Bucky turned his head to wipe his eyes on his sleeve, then managed a watery smile for him. “It was really good. Chocolate. There was strawberry jam in the middle, and fresh cream. We split a piece for you. Steve thought it was only fair, since he wouldn’t have had me without you.”

“You can come home with us, and I’ll have Natasha make it again,” Steve added, sniffing. “She’s really good at making sweets. She made the pepper-ups you had. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind making another cake.”

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it again miserably, too exhausted even to sob.

“You’ll be okay,” Steve said, voice shaking. It was clear he didn’t believe it even as he said it. “It’s gonna be okay, Tony. You’ll be fine.”

“’m…” Tony tried, then sagged, eyes tracking nothing. The stone on his chest cracked again

“This isn’t fair,” Bucky whispered, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “This isn’t—you’re _here_ , and you’re _free_ , this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re not supposed to just—just _die_.”

“S-srryyyy,” Tony managed to slur. “Sryyy…”

Bucky lifted his head to look at Steve, openly weeping and not caring. “Stevie, this isn’t fair. He gave me the chance to have you again, and then he escaped and helped you, and he destroyed Hydra’s stronghold, and now he’s just—just going to die? This isn’t—what the fuck. Where’s the fucking justice?”

“It isn’t fair,” Steve agreed, voice thick. “There is no justice. Tony, can we kiss you? Can we kiss you goodbye?”

Tony made a noise. It sounded like an agreement, but Steve and Bucky could admit, at last to each other, that they would have found any noise a sound of agreement.

Steve carefully eased Tony up to lean against his chest. “You first, Buck,” he offered quietly, because it was only right; Bucky had known Tony first, known him longer, had wiped the sweat off of his body and fed him when he was too exhausted and wrung out to move. It was only right that Bucky should get to kiss him first, especially because they wouldn’t know him otherwise.

Bucky cupped Tony’s cheeks in shaking hands, leaning down to brush their lips together. “Thank you,” he whispered into Tony’s mouth. “Thank you for everything, Tony.” He leaned back and brushed the hair out of Tony’s face again, then reached out to gently take him into his arms to hold him up for Steve.

Steve cupped Tony’s cheeks as well, stroking his thumbs over Tony’s cheekbones. “You deserve more than a dying kiss next to a pile of rubble,” he murmured, voice full of regret, then leaned in to press their lips together as well.

Tony’s breath hitched, and it sounded like a sob, if a sob could be breathless and strangled. The stone on his chest shattered, and he sucked in a big, shaking breath as Steve and Bucky stared in shock.

.-.-.-.

“You guys need a ride?” a man in a beat-up old truck called. His expression went from mildly concerned to horrified when Bucky turned to show he was carrying a human and not a parcel. “He okay?”

“He will be,” Steve called back. “’specially if you give us a ride. We’re heading to Brooks Lynn.”

The man jerked his thumb back at the bed of his truck. “I can take you as far as the Queenship,” he said as Steve clambered into the back. “Brooks Lynn would take me too far out of my way.”

“That’s close enough, thanks,” Bucky replied, handing Tony up to Steve and then hopping up himself. He waited until Steve and Tony were settled in the corner before slapping the cab of the truck and sitting down beside them. “How you doin’, sweetheart?” he asked gently.

“Could use another pepper-up,” Tony mumbled, not opening his eyes.

Steve laughed, even as he leaned over to allow Bucky to pull the bag of candies out of his pack. “I think you just like sweets. Cake, pepper-ups, what’s next? A spoonful of sugar?”

Tony was quiet for a moment, then smiled shyly, eyes fluttering open. “I prefer brown sugar.”

“Oh my God,” Steve laughed, shaking his head.

Tony took the candy from Bucky and nibbled on the shell, then quietly asked, “Is it really okay that I’m going home with you? I’m not… not intruding or anything?”

“Doll,” Bucky said, offended. “You could never intrude. Not after all the help you’ve given us. Besides, what was it that Wanda said when she found us? True love’s kiss saved you. We’re _meant_ for each other.”

“Fucking gag,” Tony muttered to himself.

Steve heard him and threw his head back to laugh again. “Tony!”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be fuckin’ sappy, so you better get used to it, asshole,” Bucky declared. “I’m gonna profess my love to you so much.”

Tony made an embarrassed face and quickly hid it in Steve’s shoulder. Steve and Bucky chose to be unoffended by it. He’d been kept captive by Hydra so long, he still had trouble believing he was free. His hands kept fluttering to his chest, and he always looked surprised when he looked down to check that the blue stone was gone. Sometimes he flinched when they got too rowdy recounting old shenanigans.

But he also smiled shyly when he was included in their banter, and he clung to them when they took the chance to press a kiss to his cheek or his shoulder, and he leaned in to every touch they gave him.

“We’ll get there,” Steve murmured, pulling Tony until he could gently lay his head on his shoulder.

“Hmm?” Tony hummed, lashes fluttering against his jaw as he struggled not to fall asleep again. He’d been sleeping a lot, but Bruce had assured them that that would be normal until he recovered from having his magic bound for as long as it had been.

Bucky smoothed his hand through Tony’s hair. “Nothing. Go to sleep, doll,” he said, even as he gave Steve the most adoring look he could muster.

Steve smiled back at him, humming quietly to lull Tony to sleep. He couldn’t wait to get home and tuck Tony into their bed so they could take care of him properly. It was only fair, after all, considering all of the help that he’d given them.


End file.
